The Hours of Dying
by Redemption-Rank5
Summary: Sacrificeshipping. Yaoi. When one person's manic desire brings about the Apocalypse, the dead attack the living. Too bad the living was doomed from the start...
1. Fire

Disclaimer 

I don't own Yuugiou

Warnings

OOC Chars, yaoi, gore, lots of char death, torture... You get the picture, READ AT YOUROWN RISK! This applys to the whole story, the first chapter isn't too bad, but if you don't like, then go away.

Pairings

Sacrificeshipping (Main, AmeldaxVaron), Prideshipping (SetoxYami, Side), Hikarishipping (MalikxRyouxYuugi, side) And Psychoshipping (BakuraxMarik, side) There might be mentions of others

The Hours of Dying 

The flickering light seemed to beckon Amelda closer. He gazed fondly at the orange flame, the heat dancing up onto his face. Amelda's grin grew wider and more maniacal, as the fire steadily got larger, greedily eating up the oiled cloth on which it was living. As a shadow fell over him, Amelda looked up. Raphael stood in the doorway to the garage a frown on his face.

Amelda didn't meet his eyes, instead he looked down, back at his beautiful fire.

Raphael didn't say anything. He came over to where Amelda was crouching beside his small flaming heap.

Amelda's face was like that of a five year old's when told it can have candy. Though in his eyes, instead of overwhelming happiness, there was a maniacal gleam. Raphael always shuddered when he saw that look. Amelda's grey eyes were focused on the heart of the flames, he payed no attention to Raphael what so ever.

The room was silent, apart from Amelda's harsh breathing. The dawn light was slowly rising over the far off mountains, and Raphael sighed. His eyes were sad, as he stared down at Amelda.

'A pyromaniac,' he thought. 'The poor soul, was consumed by the desire to burn,'

As it was, the grey eyed teen could barely control the pyromania anymore. It had started off ok, when he'd occasionally taken a couple of matches, and burnt a few twigs and what not, but recently, he'd been letting it get on top of him. The other day, Amelda had burnt one of the back yard trees down. 'No,' Raphael thought, It had gone on long enough, Amelda had to be cured.

"Amelda," He said softly.

Amelda payed no heed, instead he pulled out his lighter and made a lunge for another piece of rag. Raphael grabbed him by the waist and stood up, the younger teen leaning against him, and then suddenly struggling, trying to get away.

Raphael held him tight, "Amelda, this has got to stop!" He cried softly.

Amelda made a strange cry and kicked out, which in turn, caused Raphael to stumble backwards into a shelf on which sat a number of bottles of flammable liquids. An open bottle of kerosene toppled off upon impact, and spattered over Raphael, who was still recovering from his fall. Some of the noxious chemical dripped into the large man's eyes, upon which he let out a scream, and fell to the ground in agony. The hot ashes flew away as the moving air caught them in it's invisible grasp, unveiling a small bed of fiery orange coals.

Time seemed to slow down as the kerosene soaked man, landed on the coals, which then erupted into flame. An unearthly scream rang through the air, and Amelda stared in horror at his friend, whose clothes were now spitting flames everywhere.

A spark caught Amelda on his arm, and he gasped. All the elation he'd been feeling minutes previous, were now replaced by sheer terror.

"Raphael!" He screamed, his eyes reflecting the horrific scene before him. Raphael was burning, and burning fast. Amelda went into shock. He watched in eerie fascination as Raphael was consumed by the deadly force of fire. His flesh blackened and started to flake off, and his eyes told countless tales of pain, hurt and... Betrayal?

With a final moan, what was left of Raphael keeled over, and hit the stone floor with a thump. Amelda broke out of his stupor, fire was racing up the wooden walls and spreading fast. "Varon!" He yelled in terror, the brunette could still be asleep, for all he knew! Amelda turned to the doorway and was about to run through, when the fire leapt in front of him, and blocked his path. Amelda backed away, only to be stopped by the flames behind him. He steeled his mind, he had to save Varon! With a final glance towards Raphael's remains, he jumped straight through the doorway into the hall.

He dropped to the ground and rolled, in case any of the flames had come along for the ride. As his body turned over on the carpet, the fire on his lanky form was extinguished almost at once.

He swiftly leapt to his feet and headed off towards Varon's and his shared room. Black smoke was pouring into the corridor, but Amelda didn't stop. He ran on through it, just wanting to save Varon.

Inhaling the noxious substance, Amelda dropped to the floor coughing. After a minute he regained his bearings and pressed onwards. The fire was spreading up the hall now, and the place was thick with dark air. He stopped, trying to work out where he was.

"Fuck!" He swore, when he realised that in his rush, he had passed his room. He turned, and faced the oncoming flames, and shouted out Varon's name. Amelda was starting to panic, he has to be out by now, Amelda told himself, surely he would've woken from the screams and the noise of the fire! Amelda couldn't be sure, he had to make sure Varon was out of the building.

He ran back through the flames, as he fumbled for the door, a loud screeching reached his ears, and he realised that the smoke alarm had finally gone off. As he reached for the door, he found that it was already open, he couldn't remember if he'd left it opened or shut when he went out. He rushed into the room, half expecting Varon to be unconscious on the floor from the smoke.

However, when he looked, he could clearly see Varon was not in the room. The smoke was almost overwhelming now and Amelda doubled over, coughing and hacking, trying to clear the smoke from his lungs.

Just then a fearful voice came from the doorway, "Amelda?"

Amelda looked up to see Varon crouched in the doorway, underneath the black smoke.

Amelda smiled slightly and started to walk towards Varon. But after the first few steps, it proved to be too much, and he collapsed from the smoke and sheer exhaustion itself.

"No! Amelda!" Screamed Varon, now running towards where Amelda had fallen.

"C'mon Amelda!" Cried Varon, now half dragging Amelda towards the door.

Amelda shakily got to his feet and attempted to run with Varon, however all he ended up doing was almost tripping over his own feet. Miraculously, they both managed to get out of the flaming house with only minor burns and grazes. They both collapsed on the ground, until fiery sparks from the house started to fly out towards them, lighting the dry summer shrubbery on fire.

Varon quickly leaded the way to the car parked out on the street, and they both clambered in. As they drove off to a safer refuge, a few fire engines raced down the street in a useless attempt to save the house.

The sun rose, casting it's white rays upon the troubled faces of two young adults, sitting together in a old, black, ford falcon. The car itself, resembled a whale somewhat, at least in size. But it worked, and Amelda liked it, for he could drive it down streets, scaring little kids witless. At the moment however, it was occupied by the two downcast males, one of them curled up on the others lap, with the red heads arms, around the smaller one.

Varon sighed, leaning against Amelda's chest, with the taller of the two resting his head atop Varon's.

"I almost lost you this morning," Varon murmured, eyes closed.

Amelda simply held him tighter.

"We must've left Raphael behind in the rush," he continued, Amelda stiffened.

Varon's eye's snapped open, "... He did get out, didn't he?"

Amelda didn't reply.

Varon sat up, "Amelda... What's happened to Raphael?"

TBC...


	2. Illness

Thanks to everyone who reviewed

A.N

The house fire in the previous chapter, was exaggerated, it moved a bit more quickly than it would in reality, but I know how fast fire can spread, we once had a forest fire a couple of kilometres away from my house, and well... All I can say, is don't underestimate the speed of fire. Especially when started with kerosene. Raphael probably died a bit quicker than he should've but, I needed him out of the way, so the story could get moving.

Now if you're still reading this I congratulate you on sticking through this boring A.N. And On to the Story!

The Hours of Dying

"Amelda... What's happened to Raphael?"

All Amelda gave in reply was choked sob, and Varon feared the worst.

"He's... He's not... Dead... Is he?" Stammered Varon anxiously.

Amelda raised his head, gazing with eyes devoid of emotion, out at the bright sun, which was now getting quite high in the sky.

Inside, Amelda was screaming. Whispered voices were chasing each other around in his head, always him, blaming him. It was HIS fault that Raphael was dead, HE lit the fire, the fire of murder... Murder, he KILLED Raphael!

With a look of fear planted on his pale profile, Amelda started to shake and shiver.

"Amelda!" Cried Varon, "What's wrong! Say something!"

Amelda tossed over, his eyes now closed, "Get them... Get them out! But... They're always there! ... Always watching!" He clutched his head, and let out a cry of anguish.

Varon opened the car door, and scrambled out. "Amelda... What's happening!"

(Amelda's point of view)

I vaguely recognised Varon's voice calling out my name, and I opened my eyes to look at him. He looked scared, I wanted to hold him, and tell him that it was alright, and that everything would be ok, but it wouldn't be ok! I KILLED Raphael! Why? Why did Raph have to die, it was so unfair, why should everyone else live on, oblivious to his death as if it was just some poor person living out on the streets! Why should they live in peace while Varon and I suffered in guilt over him? I had to show them! I had to make them know, that the world was a cold cruel place, with no respect! Why? The voices continued to float around my head, they told me to give in to the anger, to avenge Raphael, and to save myself and Varon from a cruel joke from fate. I protested at first, but the voices told me of power and that it was the only way to keep Varon safe. That convinced me. Maybe it was insane, but if it kept Varon safe then... So be it. Humanity shall die.

(3rd person point of view)

Amelda stopped shaking and uttering small cries, and Varon stepped forward hoping that Amelda was ok.

"Amelda? Are you alright?" He asked cautiously.

Amelda looked up, and Varon gasped. Amelda's eyes were flickering from no emotion what so ever to alight with internal fire.

"Amelda...?" Varon was officially freaked.

"Amelda's eyes cleared somewhat, and he gazed fondly at Varon.

Varon knew something wasn't right, he just wasn't sure what. He supposed that it could be shock from Raphael's death, even for him it hadn't quite sunk in yet. But... No, it was something more, something sinister, he could see it in Amelda's eyes. Amelda was not himself, but Varon had to be strong, for Amelda, if not for himself...

(Back at the house fire)

It had been several hours since the fire, but there was still a fair amount of smoke. The house had basically burnt to the ground, only a few lone walls remained. At the moment there was firefighters poking through the wreckage looking for anything or anyone who might've survived the razing. Police were interviewing neighbours who were curiously looking over the fence to see what had happened.

"And I looked out my window, and the place was in flames!" Cried the old lady throwing her hands up in shock.

"Calm down miss!" Instructed the officer in charge of the interviewing the witnesses.

The old lady was led away from the scene and others crowded in eagerly wanting to tell their part of the tale.

Suddenly the mindless chatter dwindled to a halt, as they looked upon the charred body being carted out of the smouldering building.

The police and firemen started to crowd around the body. Not wanting to be ignored the disgruntled neighbours hurried over aswell.

"This is the only one we could find officer," Reported the fireman.

One of the onlookers piped up, "Isn't that Whatzisname? ... Raphael?"

"Yeah, it is!" Cried another.

The first spoke again. "What about the other two? Where are they?"

The firemen shook their heads, "We've combed the site, they're not here,"

The neighbours cast uneasy glances at each other before starting up their babbling again.

"I do hope they're ok, Varon was such a sweet child," Sobbed the aforementioned old lady who had escaped from the officers and run back over, not wanting to be left out.

The police were not so sympathetic. After hearing that there were traces of spilt kerosene on the body and now that the other occupants of the house were missing, they started to suspect arson.

The crowd slowly dispersed after the police force left, and went back to their business, carrying on as if nothing had happened.

As if the Apocalypse wasn't about to take place.


	3. Shock

A.N I'm sorry I haven't updated in soooo long! hits self and bows repeatedly But like, ages ago, I had to move out of my room and up the other end of my house, and my computer didn't take well to this, and didn't turn on until like a month ago, and then when it finally did turn on, I got a new laptop, so I transferred the files, and then I found that they'd become damaged and corrupted, my file records had actually turned into spreadsheets! But today I salvaged what was left of the most recent chapter, and fixed it up best I could. I don't know what Amelda, Varon and Raph's last names are so I just made some up sweadrop Sorry for the shortness of the chapter, but now since my laptop's working, hopefully I'll be updating more... What's the bet something else horrible comes up to stop me from updating... >.>

The Hours of Dying 

The sun rose, showering it's golden rays over the grey half light of the early morning. Malik Ishtar whistled lightly, as he rounded the corner, and headed towards the his driveway. He stopped his jogging for a minute to pick up the newspaper lying beside the road, and then headed inside, to where, delicious smells were coming from the small kitchen.

"Morning Malik!" Ryou's cheerful voice called out from where he was making breakfast.

"Morning," Malik answered back, before walking into the kitchen to find one of his lovers flipping pancakes in a frying pan expertedly. Malik dropped the newspaper on on the island counter, wandered over to Ryou, and wrapped his arms around his waist. Ryou lent back into Malik's embrace and smiled, at peace with the world.

It was at that point he remembered the pancakes, and leapt to the pan, startling Malik.

Malik chuckled slightly, before turning back to the newspaper.

He took it out of the plastic bag, and unrolled it. There was a picture on the front of some blackened remains of what was previously a building of some form, and some firemen searching through it.

He skimmed through the article and stopped dead.

Ryou turned around, chatting aimlessly about something or other, and blinked in confusion when he saw Malik.

The egyptionÕs tanned skin had paled considerably, and Malik's expression was one of shock.

"Malik?" He asked in question.

Malik looked up and met his gaze, "There's been a fire," he said simply, "Raphael's dead..."

"... What?" Whispered Ryou in horror.

Malik looked back at the article. "Friday morning, there was a house fire in one of the many suburbs of Domino City, witnesses claim that three young men lived together in the house before it was burnt to the ground early yesterday morning. One body has been found and identified as Raphael Yamelle. The other two, have disappeared. Their names are Amelda Svidanija and Varon Waters. Authorities want anyone with their whereabouts to contact them immediately." He quoted.

Ryou turned round in disbelief. Just like that a simple fire had destroyed their friend's lives.

Malik and Ryou looked towards the stairs as a sleepy Yuugi made his way down them. He stopped when he saw their pale features.

"... What's goin' on?" He asked, yawning widely.

Ryou didn't say anything, instead he simply threw the newspaper at Yuugi. Yuugi caught the paper and ran his eyes over the front page.

"... Oh," He finally managed to say, his voice trembling, "I'm... Going to ring Yami... They were... Friends," He turned to the phone and started dialling the number.

Malik and Ryou shared grim glances.

The pancakes long forgotten.

-

"Yami! It's for you!" Mokuba's shrill voice cut through the morning air in the still sleepy Kaiba household. From upstairs Yami who was still half asleep and dozing lightly awoke with a start, and looked around wildly.

"Yami!" Cried Mokuba, even louder this time.

Yami rolled over and groaned, making a grab for the phone on his bedside table, and missed.

Mokuba took a deep breath, "YAMI!" He cried at the very top of his voice.

Seto emerged from the dining room, "Yami! Pick up the fucking phone!" He yelled upstairs.

"... I'm trying!" Came Yami's half-assed reply.

Two pairs of blue eyes widened in shock. What was he _doing_ up there?

Yami made attempted another lunge at the offending phone. "Ah! Got it!" He cried enthusiastically.

His demeanour changed slightly when he actually put it next to his ear, "Moshi Moshi! Yami speaking! Now who the hell are you and what do you want?"

Under normal circumstances, Yuugi would've rolled his eyes and bickered at Yami for awhile about his choice of language. (After gaining his own body and seeing the world with his own eyes for the first time, Yami had taken quite an enthusiastic and positive approach to swearing and general weirdness... Whoever said Yami was a goody-two-shoes was sadly mistaken). In this case however, Yuugi simply ignored Yami, and said quietly, "Hey Yami... It's Yuugi... Ummm... I take it you haven't seen the paper today?"

Yami stayed silent.

Yuugi sighed, "I'll take that as a no then... Well... It's about Raphael,"

Yami went pale... "What... About Raphael exactly?"

Yuugi took a deep breath, "He's dead Yami."

The phone dropped from Yami's hand and hit the floor. The line went dead.

Yuugi sighed and placed the phone back on the stand.

Ryou and Malik were watching him, their eyes wide.

Malik spoke up, "I'm guessing... He didn't take it too well then?"

Yuugi nodded mutely.


	4. Windows

**The Hours of Dying Chapter 4**

**A.N** Sorry!!!! This is soooo late! I'm a bad author I know -hits self over head- BUT! the good news is, In a few days It's my summer holidays! YAY eight weeks of no school! So I'll definately be able to find more time to write, AND because I've been so lazy at updating I wrote _two_ chapters for your reading pleasure! Ugh the editor thing is STILL not working properly so if there's any weird symbols in there it was the stupid editor, I tried to get them all out but I might've missed a couple (it eats my grammar and replaces them with spanish like symbols!

Also it's my birthday in a few days so be nice and give me lots of reviews ne? Speaking of birthdays I'm fairly sure it's LeoOsaka's tomorrow so be nice to her too... Even if she is grounded from the computer... -shrugs- Anways... Nice long A.N for ya XD Enjoy!

-

Hollow footsteps sounded down a narrow alleyway as a lone figure made his way through the barely lit darkness. A dim light flickered above him showering his silver-white hair in a pale red light. Broken glass crunched under his boots as he continued down the alleyway.

Bakura sighed.

"Marik and his fucking cravings... I should've made the dick go and get the bloody corn things himself..."

In his hand was a white shopping bag containing the corn thins that Bakura had purchased from the local 24/7

A small movement from the left caught Bakura's eye and he spun around, hand already heading for his hidden knife. What at first appeared to a small pile of rags, sat up and revealed the toothless grin of a person of undefinable sex.

"A spare coin for a poor beggar?" It crooned softly.

Bakura silently told himself off for being so jumpy, slid the knife back into it's sheath and simply glared at the beggar before heading on his way again.

"Fuck what the hell is up with me tonight?" He muttered under his breath. "I'm being so bloody paranoid,"

'Ah well... Better safe then sorry' He thought, then cringed after he realised how Anzu-like he'd sounded.

Never the less, he kept his red eyes flicking around him... Just in case...

-

Yami tightened his hold of his lover and buried his face into Seto's collarbone. A lone tear tracked down his face. It was so sudden he mused silently as he listened to the comforting sound of Seto's breathing. Raphael had told him of Amelda's pyromania, but would Amelda really go so far to as torch the house with his best friend in it? Yami didn't think so, but it did seem awfully suspicious, the way Amelda and Varon had vanished. Yami needed the truth, and he wouldn't rest until he found it.

-

"They'll be after us you know,"

Varon shifted his gaze from the window of the car to Amelda who had his eyes trained on the road in front of him.

"They think we burnt down the house. That we murdered Raph," Amelda continued.

Varon opened his mouth to reply, but Amelda cut him off.

"I suppose they're right... It's my fault he's dead,"

Varon peered at Amelda worriedly.

ÒThat's not true Amelda! It was an accident! Raph wouldn't want you to blame yourself,"

Amelda turned to face Varon "I suppose..."

"Eyes on the road you freak!!" Yelled Varon wincing as Amelda swerved to narrowly miss an oncoming truck.

Gazing at the driver of truck flipping him off in the rearview mirror, Amelda shrugged in a nonchalant manner.

"I have to burn something Varon,"

Varon went back to staring out the window.

"Even after what happened?"

Amelda nodded, bringing Varon's attention back to him.

"It hurts in here," He stated tapping his head. He traced his hand down his body to rest in the middle of his chest. "And here,"

"Do you mean Raph or the pyromania?" Varon asked softly.

"Both," Amelda replied.

Varon sighed. "Let's go find something to burn then,"

-

Bakura chucked the corn things down on the counter and glared at the window.

Something was making him uneasy tonight but he couldn't quite place his finger on what. He stalked over to the open window and slammed it shut, while scanning his eyes over the overgrown garden outside. Was there something out there? Bakura had a strange feeling that something was watching him. He peered out into the inky darkness, trying to make out any odd shapes. Nothing seemed amiss...

Giving the outside world one more disdainful glance, Bakura yanked the curtains closed and spun around.

"Marik?" He called out wondering where the other yami was. There was no reply.

Bakura stepped into the living room. "Where is he...?" He walked over to the closed door leading into the hallway and turned the handle of the door.

It remained closed.

Bakura growled and turned side on to the offending door. Gathering all his strength he slammed his shoulder into the door while twisting the handle.

The door sprang open as if nothing was wrong with it. Bakura stared at the door bewildered.

"Bloody thing must've jammed..."

The lights were off in the hallway and as Bakura took a step forward, he heard the unmistakable click of the door shutting behind him, " ... The hell?"

He spun around to face up the corridor as he heard something thump up ahead in one of the bedrooms.

The feeling of unease tightened it's hold on him as he edged his way up the corridor. "Marik? Are you in here?" He asked the darkness, disgusted that his voice had a slight trace of a tremor

He pushed open the bedroom door, his nerves tingling.

There didn't seem to be anyone in the room. Silvery moonlight spilled onto the floor through another open window. Bakura stepped into the room, fear budding on his senses. He cautiously sidled closer to the window.

Without warning a hand clamped down on his shoulder, nails digging into Bakura's skin.

Bakura let out a bloodcurdling scream, and spun to face a hysterical Marik.

"Hah! That was priceless, you should've seen the look on your face!" Cried Marik, doubled over in laughter.

"You stupid fuckwit! That wasn't fucking funny!" Yelled Bakura, face turning red in anger and embarrassment.

"Yes it was! Who wouldÕve thought, the mighty Bakura screams like a girl!?" Marik straightened up, still snickering away.

Bakura growled and stalked over to the light switch, flicking it on angrily.

"Gah! Why the hell do I live you idiot anyway?"

The taller yami sauntered over to Bakura, and stroked his chin with his index finger.

"Hmm I don't know... Maybe 'cause you love me?"

Bakura scoffed, "Not when you do things like that, dickface!"

Marik merely grinned and pulled Bakura closer to him, gazing at the still open window, Marik murmured, "Damn Bakura why'd you open the window? It's getting cold you know,"

He felt Bakura press himself against him so even more, damn he was in a touchy mood tonight...

"I assumed you opened it," The albino replied after a minute.

"No," Marik gazed towards the window. Letting go of Bakura he walked over to it, and stuck his head out.

"Nothing here... No reason to be _scared_ Bakura," He mocked.

Bakura scowled, marched over to the window, and slammed it shut, yanking the curtains over it.

"You're so mean to me Marik," he whined, pouting. "Now go and eat those corn _things _you made me go out and buy!"

Marik snickered, "Fine... But you're coming too! I'm sure we'll find an... _interesting_ way to consume them,"

Bakura swatted Marik over the head and followed him out into the dining room.

Still he couldn't quite shake that feeling of unease...


	5. Dreams

**The Hours of Dying**

Chapter 5:

**A.N** I'm sorry about the shortness of the chapters I really am, but until The editor stops fucking me around, they're not gonna be longer than 2000 words at most, because it just takes far to long to go through everything and every quotation mark, every comma, every paragraph having to be fixed ugh it's so annoying. Oh well. Enjoy the chapter. Don't forget to review! XD

-

"You know Amy... When I said 'Find something to burn' I didn't exactly have a house in mind,"

Amelda scowled at the feminine nickname directed his way.

"I mean... What about a nice tree instead?" Suggested Varon hopefully.

Amelda shook his head as he rifted through the masses of junk in the backseat.

"Nah,"

Varon sighed and raised his eyes to the stars above. That was the thing about Amelda, once he got his mind set on something you had to beat hm with a stick to make him let go, and he wasn't about to beat his boyfriend with a stick...

Amelda spotted what he was looking for and closed his hand around the bottle of kerosene.

"You know Varon... I don't feel like doing it the traditional way tonight,"

Varon glanced over at Amelda. "Is that so?"

Amelda slammed the car door shut and turned to face the Australian boy.

"Yeah..."

Varon noticed a rag in Amelda's right hand.

"And how do you propose _not_ doing it 'The Traditional way'"

Amelda smirked, "I was thinking along the lines of kerosene bomb,"

Varon nodded, that explained quite clearly what the rag was for...

"Ok... Whatever you want," He sighed letting his gaze drop to his feet.

A moment later he saw Amelda's feet walking towards him, and then felt a finger lifting his chin up.

"Don't be depressed Varon... You'll make me depressed,"

Amelda's breath ghosted over his ear.

He had a point thought Varon, And the last thing he wanted was for Amelda to be unhappy.

Before he had a chance to voice his opinion to the redhead he felt a pair of lips on his own, a tongue already begging for entrance.

Varon opened his mouth somewhat and stepped closer to Amelda, pressing his body up against the others.

He wanted to just forget about the past few days, just stay in Amelda's embrace forever.

However after a minute Amelda pulled away, bringing Varon back to hard reality.

The redhead was gazing fondly down at Varon, his left hand still slightly tangled in Varon dark brown hair.

"I wont let anyone hurt you," He murmured.

Varon was slightly taken aback at this, had someone tried to hurt him? Not that he knew of... Maybe Amelda was just insecure because of what happened? Yes, that would be it.

Wrapping his arms around Amelda's neck, he brought the other boys lips down to meet his once again.

-

Bakura walked down the deserted street. Where was everyone? He stood on the edge of the road, overlooking the dark waters of the bay beneath him. A piece of litter rattled past his feet, blown along by the wind. The only sound in a seemingly deserted city.

Just then he heard footsteps behind him. Running footsteps.

He spun around, hand already heading for his knife. But froze when he saw what came around the corner. It was Marik, but not Marik at the same time. It's basic features were Marik's, but Bakura didn't think he'd ever laid eyes on something so disturbing in his life. It's platinum blonde hair was matted and streaked with blood, the same substance running down it's chin, from it's mouth. It was hunched over slightly, breathing hard like a wounded animal. But it's most disturbing feature was it's eyes... No pupil, no iris just a sickly looking white. It's eyes were currently on a horrified Bakura and without warning the creature lunged towards him.

Bakura dodged to the side, before running down a small alleyway eyes wide. More creatures joined the first, there were heaps of them, coming from everywhere. He kept running, his legs were screaming at him, but he ignored the pain and kept sprinting. Suddenly on either side of him, flames sprung up, licking at his legs and arms. He felt a burning on the back of his neck and realised that his hair was on fire. He just kept running, he just needed to get away from those _things_. His foot hit a glitch in the road, and he stumbled, falling down and grazing his knees in the process. He tried to get back up again, but was knocked back down my something hurtling into his backside, he spun over preparing to defend himself and saw those pupiless eyes, saw the bloody teeth headed for his throat, and clenched his eyes shut, just as the grisly creature ripped into his flesh.

"Bakura!"

Bakura shot up, breathing hard.

A nightmare it had all been a nightmare... Which was strange really, he was usually the one to cause nightmares not have them himself. He turned to the source of his name, and had never been more relieved in his life to see the concerned eyes of his lover. He practically threw himself at Marik, knowing he was acting like a wimp but he didn't care, all he wanted to do was stay like that, with the blonde boys arms around him rubbing circles on his back, trying to calm him down.

"... Want to talk about it?"

Marik's voice held a rare tone of compassion. And Bakura was grateful.

However he shook his head, he didn't want to remember that horror, best just to forget about the whole thing.

"Ok... Whatever you want," murmured Marik.

They stayed there, Bakura gradually calming down, until he became aware of Marik gently forcing his shoulders down, causing the albino boy to fall back onto the double bed.

-

Amelda swished the clear liquid around the glass bottle to coat the sides with the flammable substance, before wetting a rag and stuffing it into bottle so that the flaps hung out through the end. Going back to the old ford, Amelda opened the boot and brought out a red canister of petrol.

Thrusting the home made bomb at varon and indicating to him to hold it, Amelda took the petrol and sauntered over to the back door of the house.

It wasn't a busy suburb, since they'd been there, there'd only been one car that had driven leisurely down the street and turned into a drive and then it'd been quiet. The streetlamp infront of the house was broken and the glass from it was scattered over the dark pavement. Lying in the gutter were several beer bottles, illuminated only by the moonlight and the faint glow given off by the lights of one house further down the street. Varon watched with unease as Amelda quietly opened the unlocked back door and crept inside.

After a few minutes of fidgeting and wishing Amelda would hurry up and get back out there, varon finally breathed out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding in.

Varon silently handed over the makeshift bomb and realised that Amelda's eyes were strangely... Vacant.

"Amelda... Are you sure this is right? ... I mean this is someone's home... We're interfering with their life..."

Amelda's eyes glanced up from where they'd been focused on on the bomb and stared at Varon.

His eyes narrowed.

"Don't you trust me?" He whispered, Varon could've sworn he'd heard a trace of maliciousness in Amelda's voice.

"Of course I do!" Varon assured him, a slight touch of anxiety in his voice.

Amelda smirked, "Good,"

He turned around, "Get in the car, and drive a little way away from here, I'll catch up with you in a few minutes,"

Varon swallowed nervously and nodded to show he understood.

He slid into the car, and started up the engine. The car rumbled but didn't start. He scowled, Varon really was getting fed up with this car, but Amelda liked it too much to buy a new one... Not to mention they were broke, but still...

On the second try the car rumbled into life, and Varon shut the door, and pulled out onto the dim lit street before driving up the street and around the corner.

Amelda watched him go, then focused his attention back on the task at hand.

He brought out his Zippo lighter and flicked it open. With an excited gleam in his eyes, Amelda set fire to the kerosene soaked rag, and threw it as hard as he could into the house through the backdoor, and as a maniacal grin spread across his face, the flames reached the inside of the bottle and exploded in a ball of bright orange flame, catching the petrol carelessly spread over the carpet and walls by Amelda, the flames spread quickly, almost engulfing the first room in a minute. A cloth over his nose and mouth to stop the fumes overcoming him, Amelda glanced up towards the second floor of the house, a light had gone on, and he could hear shouting... They'd probably woken up from the smoke alarm Amelda mused.

The fire was spreading, the petrol speeding it's rampage. It was a small house, Amelda could see from his viewpoint outside the backdoor, the room it lead into then another room beyond that, and a stairway which had just collapsed. The houses in this area weren't built very well Amelda registered bemusedly.

"Hmm... No stairs, you're not getting out unless you jump... That is if you haven't collapsed from smoke already," Murmured Amelda.

Staring entranced at the scene before him, Amelda suddenly felt like he was being watched. He spun around to look up at the next house.

On the second floor, a light was on and a figure was standing at the window speaking quickly into a phone.

A figure with brown hair, and wide blue eyes.

"Shit...!" Amelda swore.

He took one last look at the flames, then turned and ran.


End file.
